


The Siberian Alpha

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Alpha/Omega, Alpha/Omega, Exhibitionism, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Stranger Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Things start heating up between Michael and Dean. They aren't the only two who end up enjoying how things develop.





	The Siberian Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> I HAD TO DO IT, ALRIGHT!!!
> 
> For some of you, the stranger in this might be a new acquaintance. Others will know why I just had to let him make an appearance in connection to Michael. ;) (And leave it wonderfully open-ended...)
> 
> Also, to get some of my inspiration for this chapter I googled 'dragon dildo' and let myself be loosely influenced by the image results. You'll understand how. (Also, if you make the same search as I do - warning! NSFW!)
> 
> Here. Stare at him for a few seconds and he'll flare for you. ^^'  
> 

* * *

They’re walking hand in hand. Another Progressive thing to do, but Dean doesn’t mind. He’s not one to kink shame and by the look of things, neither is Michael. Now and then they’ll stop, trade a couple of kisses, scent and mark each other, or Michael will tell Dean something about the places they walk by. Dean likes it.

“You know, that rule about no knotting in the workplace is bullshit,” Dean tells him. “It should be ‘no knotting during work’ or something.”

“I don’t see what difference it makes?”

“I’ve got a 45 minutes lunch break and your desks on the top floor look damned sturdy. That’s all I’m saying.”

Michael chuckles and side-eyes him. “You’re born to be a tease, aren’t you?”

“Nu-uh. If I was a tease I’d be saying stuff I’d never follow through on. I might not be makin’ any promises, but I ain’t throwing out false lures either.” Dean winks at him.

“Mmh. It takes time to change the policies. It’s a process. Earlier today I was thinking we needed to change it to ‘no sex in the workplace’, but you make a compelling case. Naturally, if you’d come to me to be knotted on your break none of us would get in trouble for it…”

“Now look who’s throwing out lures,” Dean jokes. “I mean, sure. But if I fell for someone lower level than an actual owner, I would. I just think a lot of the rules seem adapted to suit Progs. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Progs and Conservatives think alike in many departments.”

“Yeah, but. It just doesn’t seem right to me. A company run by Primals and the Primals are those who have to tiptoe around? I’d say, Progs want to complain? Fire them and don’t hire them.”

Michael laughs. “Look at you. We’ve been on one date and you’re already dictating how we should run the company,” he purrs affectionately.

“Nah. I just don’t get it.” Dean gives him a sheepish smile.

“It’s been up for discussion several times. Not to exclude anyone based on orientation, just exclude them based on how they handle primal behaviour.”

“So…? Why don’t you?”

“Education and skills. A lot of what we do requires at least some basic education. Preferable college but we do take in people who read well and learn fast for apprenticeships too. And a lot of the companies we work with are run by Conservatives and Progs so anyone dealing with them needs to be well versed in how to do that without putting anyone off. I don’t want to sound insulting, but did you really read the whole policy booklet?”

“Yeah. Sure I did. Gotta know how I can use the rules to my advantage, don’t I?”

“Is that so,” Michael hums in amusement. “Would you give me an example?”

“If I do, you might change the rules to close the loopholes.”

“I promise I won’t. Whatever you confess now, I give you my word I won’t change it.”

“Okay. I’ll give you one thing that’s been very good for me. It says that all employees have the right to take fruit from the staff fruit basket on the floor they work,” Dean says and braces for the reaction.

Michael blinks, then he throws his head back laughing in delight when he realises what that means for someone like Dean who works on basically every floor. “Oh, that’s… that’s… Man, you’ve got one heavy set of balls on you!” He grins at Dean, scent happy and content like this is a good thing. “Dick really is right. You’re definitely wasted as a janitor. Did you… did you really not sleep with him, just mark him up?”

“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it,” Dean answers with a shiteating grin.

Michael chortles, and walk along for a bit with a big close-lipped smile on his face. Then he stops, looking over the street. “Let’s catch a movie,” he suggests. 

“Sure, we can do that.”

Michael looks at Dean and pulls him in to wind his arms around his midriff. “You ever been?”

“Not to an indoor one, no. But we had a drive-in where I come from.”

“TVs?” Michael asks and nuzzles him.

“Three in the whole town. My uncle owned one of them and he kept it in his workshop. There were two channels. It makes the 96 channels I get on my TV today fucking mindblowing.”

Michael makes an impressed sound and licks a stripe along Dean’s neck, laving where Dean’s leaked from his ear glands.

“If you siphon me now I swear I’ll break your face,” Dean threatens without letting go of the embrace.

Michael chuckles. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Actually, I can.” Michael leans back far enough to be able to look at Dean to gauge how serious he is. “...I don’t. But I can,” Dean adds with a shiteating grin. Whoever said Primals have no self-control has only met weak, low ranking ones. And by rank, Dean means measured by how it would look if they were in a pack. The sheer amount of self-control it’s taken him to just stroll hand in hand with an interested, divinely-smelling, horny Alpha while Dean’s in preheat, is staggering.

Michael regards him intensely. Dean loves his primary eye-colour, a hazel-green that can’t seem to make up its mind if it’s green or hazel and thus shifts, as much as he loves the brilliant blue of his flare. Blue isn’t _that_ uncommon compared to his brother’s red or Raphael’s pink, but it’s unusual enough to draw attention and hold it. Dean can see a tiny sliver of blue around the pupil now, like Michael’s fighting the urge to flare.

“What are you thinking about?” Dean asks.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re thinking about something and I bet it’s filthy.”

Michael gives him a toothy grin. “Okay. If you must know. I was thinking that if you took my knot in your mouth we’d be face to face. Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to actually do it. But since you asked…”

“Hey. Choose a long and boring enough movie, and I just might.” Dean waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Michael’s eyes widen and he flares fully. “Deal,” he says, then hurriedly starts pulling the now cackling Dean over the street towards the movie theater.

* * *

Michael really took him at his word. The movie he chose was a long-running one that has been critically acclaimed but found no love amongst the audience. It's a 3 hours long drama, filmed in black and white to be artistically edgy or something. Dean would have hated it except there’s only one more person in there with them. A huge fucking Alpha sitting two rows to the left behind them, seemingly there to take a nap.

Of course, there are things that count as overstepping even if you’re a Primal. Public knotting? No problem. As long as nobody flared and dropped their fangs even Conservatives did it during heats and ruts. It’s just how it is. Nobody in their right mind would protest a couple watching a movie knotted. This, what they’re doing now, however, would have gotten them thrown out if there were other people to complain.

They start out making out like Progs because Michael’s a strange man and Dean’s open-minded, but it soon escalates from there. It’s when Dean slips down between Michael’s legs, frees his erection, and goes to town licking and sucking that they overshoot the boundaries of public decency. Dean doesn’t care. Living in a pack, sex of any kind isn’t a private matter. Cas and he would seek privacy but that had more to do with how things got skewed by Dean staying under dad’s roof. It’s hardly like dad never caught them at it. In fact, he’d walked into the living room once when Cas sat on the couch with Dean between his legs just like this, knot locking him in place. Dad had let out a ‘ _Fuck!_ ’ and stared, flaring and wafting arousal, until Cas’ dangerous warning-growl had driven him out of there. That’s what was skewed. Had dad still been the Patriarch that would have ended with Dean knotted from two ends and Dean would have wanted it.

Giving head isn’t something everyone enjoys. Getting your mouth knotted even less. But Dean fucking loves it. He loves the taste of precome and come alike, loves fingers digging into his hair, loves every breathy gasp, moan, growl, and purr he can get out of the Alpha. Michael turns out to be a particularly lovely recipient because when Dean elongates his fangs so they press against the sides of Michael’s dick, the Alpha curses, fists his hair and starts fucking into his mouth with his eyes blue glowing slits and head thrown back. The scent of their joint arousal is heady.

Suddenly Dean picks out a third scent of arousal. He pops off to scent the air and to see that the large Alpha has moved, sitting only two seats away from them in the row right behind them. Michael growls a steady threat at him when he too takes note, but Dean’s intrigued because the guy smells strange. Foreign.

Bobby had several large dogs at the garage. Huge mutts that could be the sweetest things or the meanest motherfuckers. One of them, Joe, was big, gray and shaggy, and looked just like a wolf. They’d sometimes take him along for hunts and on one hunt they’d come across an actual wolf. The two of them looked like they could be littermates but _smelled_ different. Joe smelled like a dog and the wolf smelled like a wolf. Dean couldn’t tell you what the difference was exactly, just that there was a distinct difference. Joe had run off later, and Dean’s pretty sure that he’d made babies with the female lone wolf.

The stranger smells different in the same way the wolf had. So close it’s barely discernible, but still. Foreign. He smirks at them and rubs the bulge between his legs. “Ey. Don’t mind me. I have no plans on making a move on your mate. Just enjoying the show,” he says with a faint accent.

Michael’s growl dies and he looks down at Dean. “Is that okay with you?” he asks quietly.

 _Wow._ Okay, so Dean’s always been appreciative of an Alpha being protective while they fuck you, and this is sort of the opposite. And Dean’s never spent any time thinking about what people think watching him have sex. But this might be the first time someone’s wanted to get off watching without participating. (Not counting dad’s guilt-ridden, angsty reactions to Dean once the built-in repulsion wore off. But we don’t talk about that.) And… yeah. “Fuck yeah. If you’re up for it? Why not?”

Michael nods, biting his lip.

Dean looks at the stranger. He’s tall, maybe even taller than Sam, built as fuck but proportional, has silver hair and gray eyes. He’s got a scar running from his temple, through his eyebrow and down his cheek. Probably a war vet. His age is hard to discern. He doesn’t have many wrinkles and those he does have, appear to be laugh lines. He could be anywhere between 50 and 150 for all Dean can tell. There’s just an aura of experience and age about him and there are traces of pain in his scent, mostly hidden under his arousal. “Hey, buddy. You can watch, but if you try to get grabby hands I’ll rip your throat. We clear?”

The stranger’s lips twitch as if he’s withholding an amused smirk. He holds up his hands palms out in a gesture of surrender. “Crystal.”

“Then get your ass down to our row and you’ll see better,” Dean instructs. A look at Michael’s feverish eyes tells him that this is definitely doing it for him. “Michael, would you move up to sit on the backrest to offer a better view?”

“Definitely,” Michael answers a little too quickly, making Dean chuckle with butterflies in his belly. Michael’s a kinky fucker apparently. Dean can appreciate that. The stranger makes a smooth jump over the backrests while they reposition themselves, and settles two seats away, an arm thrown over the backrest in their direction and the other hand massaging his bulge. Dean climbs up to sit with his knees on the chair between Michael’s legs and goes back to blowing him, an extra edge being added by being watched this way. Pretty soon he feels Michael’s knot starting to swell slightly and swallows his dick down as far as he can, making sure his fangs will trap the knot inside his mouth even if Michael would turn out to have a small knot. Michael's purring growl sends shivers down Dean's spine. The base of his cock swells all around, trapping him. He's big enough that Dean might have a hard time getting him out even without his fangs down. It's hard to breathe like this which is why many don't like it. Dean holds his breath, bracing for the first load just in time. As soon as Michael’s cock is firmly lodged and locked in Dean’s mouth, he comes shooting load upon load straight down Dean’s throat.

Once he’s stopped coming Dean draws breath starting on an exhale. This is what Dean loves. The moment when the scent of come reaches him from inside and the calm from being locked together descends. It doesn’t matter that his jaw aches and oxygen is limited, making him dizzy. Dean’s not all that bothered by physical discomfort and the dizziness is a pleasant thing, making him a bit drowsy. It’s physically impossible to siphon with a dick down your throat, but the way you breathe like this makes air travel to those receptors anyway, grazing lightly instead of being pushed into them like siphoning would do. The result is that everything tastes and smells of Michael and Dean’s one happy camper.

Cas would still and pet Dean’s hair lovingly when they were stuck like this. Michael does too, to begin with. He looks down at Dean with something akin to awe, eyes full of affection. His hands caress gently, petting Dean's hair and his face. He runs a finger over the bulge in Dean’s cheek and pushes lightly at the knot inside. Dean grabs both Michael’s hands, pulls one to cup his throat so Michael can feel his dick inside, and guides the other to press on both sides of his cheeks, pressing Michael’s fingers to massage the knot inside.

Michael makes a wounded noise and comes again, Dean barely managing to hold his breath in time, unprepared for how sensitive Michael is. Cas had required a more thorough massage through the cheeks to come that second time and needed to be rested in the lock for a couple of minutes. It thrills Dean that Michael’s so sensitive. Slick is starting to soak through Dean’s underwear now, but fuck, can you blame him? He swallows around the cock, making Michael gasp and writhe, spurting two more times. It’s glorious.

A dark, encouraging purr breaks through Dean’s Michael-induced haze. He looks to his side to see the stranger sit watching them, upper body turned their way, teething only his canines with a dangerous smirk and lowered eyelids. He’s spread his legs wide, taken his dick out and is openly stroking himself, the tip of his dick glistening with precome, giving _them_ a show of his own. Dean makes a garbled noise and feels himself leak even more slick, the warmth of it spreading down to his balls. The stranger has the weirdest looking dick Dean’s ever seen. Its tip is more pointed, the glans flatter, more triangular. The shaft is curved upward towards his belly, the underside, starting from just under the penis head, is swollen and bulbous, with what appears to be ridges down the length, slimming down towards the base. The length might not be extreme, but girthwise, the guy’s massive. Dean could never have let the guy knot his mouth, even without a knot Dean would choke to death trying to swallow that thing. Hell, with a dick like that he could probably even offer full relief during a Heat without even knotting you.

Dean stares transfixed as the guy’s hand slowly travels up the length of the cock, every time they pass a ridge more precome leaks from the tip. He pulls down his foreskin to smear the precome out over the glans and down his shaft. His scent is somewhat muskier than most people’s. It takes Dean a couple of heartbeats to consciously decide what his body has already settled on judging by his slick production. But in the end, his brain settles on ‘Fuck that’s hot!’ rather than ‘Fuck that’s gross!’

The stranger shifts his gaze to Michael, staring equally transfixed, open-mouthed and red-cheeked. “Am I going to get to see you knot your mate the other way too?” the stranger asks.

Dean hums an affirmative before Michael can.

“Can I see you put cubs in your mate’s belly?”

Dean’s denying growl comes out more like a hiss with the dick in his throat. ‘Cubs’. Whoever says ‘cubs’ instead of ‘kits’? Someone very foreign, that’s who. 

“No. I haven’t earned that right yet,” Michael answers breathlessly.

The stranger makes a sturgeon face and a half shrug. “Is still good. You pretty little boys playing with each other. Very good.” Dean might have taken offense to being called little boy if the Alpha hadn’t been so huge and older than both of them. By the look of things, Michael’s mind is following his step by step. The whole accent thing makes the man even more exotic.

Michael tears his gaze from the stranger and leans forward to get his arms around Dean to start opening his belt up. Dean reaches down and helps. It feels good to push his pants down to his knees, freeing his erection. It’s cramped for his head when Michael leans forward to touch his leaking hole, but when his finger slips in almost inadvertently from how much slick there is it sends a jolt of pleasure through Dean and he moans around the dick in his mouth. 

The stranger takes a strip of condoms from his pocket and throws it on the chair closest to them. “If you want to make your boy come, have him put one on. Less cleaning for the staff.”

Good call. Dean makes a grab to tear a condom off the strip, opens it and puts it on himself while Michael keeps fingering him. He has to push Michael back at one point because when he’s leaning forward he’s blocking Dean’s airway almost completely. Michael leans back and laves his fingers clean with a purring growl. Dean jerks himself off with quick stroke until he comes, triggering Michael to follow him over the edge a third time. It should mean the knot will start deflating soon. Alphas usually come three or four times when knotted. 

He has to wait for another round. It’s torture because he’s dying to have Michael knotted properly inside of him and Michael keeps fingering him, teasing him and opening him up until he’s going insane with it. It’s made worse by the low, steady purr of praise coming from the strange Alpha to their side. He gives Dean Patriarch vibes. In fact, this is the ideal minimal size of a pack. One older, experienced Alpha to lead, a younger ambitious one, and one Omega to be Main.

Both Michael and Dean freeze when the stranger tears a condom from the strip and puts it on himself. Dean hasn’t gotten the feeling that the stranger had any plans on mounting him, but for a brief moment, he worries. Michael growls. 

The Alpha gives them a disgusted look at the wordless accusation. “ _Eey,_ ” is all he says. He only pulls the condom down to cover the head of his dick, then massages the base of his cock. His knot begins to grow and Dean relaxes again. He’s only following his own advice, about to come himself. Dean purrs an ‘all is well’ from the breastbone tract and Michael stops growling to stroke Dean’s hair. They both watch the guy’s knot grow. It’s _not_ a regular knot. Normal knots swell like a stopper around the whole base of the dick. This guy has two large bulbs on each side of his dick by the base. With their size, they’ll do the trick just as well, though. Michael makes a strangled sound, biting his lip. The stranger chuckles with his dangerous smirk. “Careful there. Look like that and I might think you want your little Alpha boy-hole knotted up yourself,” he taunts.

Michael growls but doesn’t refute and _holy fuck!_ If Dean doesn’t get to see that happen tonight he’s sure as hell gonna fantasise about it because _fucking hell_ that’d be hot!

The Alpha leans his head back and closes his eyes, his mouth falls open. Both his lower and upper canines elongate in a partial drop. Then he comes, growling a dark purr, flaring so strongly his eyelids glow red where they cover his irises. He keeps pumping out spurt upon spurt into the condom, filling it up like a water balloon. If Dean wasn’t still knotted he’d curse at the sheer amount of come in one go. Then he’s momentarily distracted when Michael comes again. 

The stranger’s flare dies before he opens his eyes. He pulls off the condom with practised ease, ties it off at the end and leans forward to discard the full condom in the plastic trash bag that can be found on the backside of every seat. Then he turns his attention back to them, massaging his knot lazily.

It doesn’t take long before Michael’s knot goes down after that. As soon as Dean pops off Michael pulls him up, kisses him (weirdo), and starts rubbing his neck and temples against the side of Dean’s throat, marking him up. It gets another appreciative purr from their watcher. Michael’s scent covers him from the inside out and Dean can’t fucking _wait_. “I need you inside of me. _Now_ ,” Dean orders.

“Move over.” They scramble to change position. The seats of a movie theater aren’t the best setting for this, but who the hell cares about comfort anyway? Dean ends up belly rested over an armrest, forearms leaned on the seat of one chair and knees on another, one leg threatening to glide down to the floor to accommodate for Michael lining up between them. Dean’s face is only one seat away from the strangers marvellously strange dick now. Then Michael puts on a condom, pushes in and leans over his back to lick and bite at the gland at the base of his neck and Dean’s fucking _gone_ , out for the count from bliss, keening a purr or maybe wailing one as Michael fucks him and milks his gland. 

He doesn’t start being aware again until Michael’s firmly knotted inside of him, resting over his back with his arms hugging Dean’s chest, panting breaths giving Dean goosebumps as they hit his neck and ear.

The stranger picks another condom from the strip and starts pulling it down over the head of his dick.

“This time, don’t hide yourself from us. I want to see your flare,” Dean asks.

The stranger chuckles and lifts an eyebrow at Dean, lips twitching in held back amusement. “No hiding, huh?” His gaze shifts to Michael. “How about you, Alpha boy? Want to see a grown man’s flare?”

“Yes,” Michael croaks in a hoarse whisper.

Once again the stranger drops fangs, but this time it’s not just the top and bottom, but a thinner, flat set of teeth that looks more like snake-fangs than anything else, dropping down by the side of his front teeth. They’re curved backwards and milky drops of liquid that smell pleasant form at their tips. The stranger pushes them from behind using his tongue, showing that they can bend forward, then sucks inward and they bend the other way, disappearing from view. The teeth on either side of them close the gap, but there’s a slight bulge up by the gums saying that they might still be there, but bent up to, what? Sting the man on the roof of his mouth. Dean wonders what the milky substance is. Some sort of venom? No. If they pop out when he’s turned on it might be some sort of aphrodisiac or maybe something sedative to inject in your partner when you’re knotted.

Then the guy flares and both Dean and Michael gasp.

“Shit, he’s not human,” Michael blurts.

“Whatever, man. Mark me down as scared and horny,” Dean mutters in awe. The stranger’s pupils have elongated like on a cat or snake, his flare is silvery white, but his scleras have turned a jet black and it’s fucking _awesome_. It also makes him look exceedingly dangerous. Dean totally gets why he closed his eyes before he flared the last time.

The stranger chuckles again, looking at Michael. “That’s not nice, little Alpha boy. You’re hurting my feelings,” he says with a smirk and tone of voice that tells them he’s not hurt in the least and he finds the fear wafting through the scent of their joint arousal funny.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I just―”

“ _Eey_ ,” the stranger coos. “Don’t worry. Pretty little boys who play with this fire are protected by it,” he reassures, once again giving Dean those Patriarch vibes. There’s nothing about his demeanor or scent that gives any indication of him being a threat in any way.

“Where are you from?” Dean asks. He doesn’t buy the ‘not human’ argument. Dad had talked about meeting people with vastly different traits during the war. They all came from isolated places. This has got to be an individual like that.

“Siberia.”

“Bullshit. The Siberians have been extinct for centuries,” Michael refutes. Dean has no idea what they’re talking about, nor where the hell Siberia is, except when he turns his head to be able to look at Michael, Michael’s face is a mix of disbelief and awe.

The Alpha laughs. “College boy, I see. You believe books before eyes and nose.” He tuts. “Books change based on what nose and eyes see, pretty Alpha boy. But okay. You won’t believe Siberia? Let’s say the Soviet Union. Better?”

USPR. Union of Soviet Progressive Republics. Dean knows exactly nothing about them except that Primals have a rough time over there. When he’s heard Progs talk about the USPR they’ve been upset, telling him that what’s going on there is _not_ what being a Prog is about. It doesn’t make a lick of difference because Dean doesn’t know _what_ goes on over there. “Whelp. I’ll believe you. And maybe Siberians are only extinct in Siberia. I mean, I drop fangs and Progs shit themselves. Imagine what they’d do to a guy like him in a country run by them.” The last sentence is directed towards Michael.

“Your mate has a good head on him, Alpha boy.”

“I’m not his mate yet, buddy. I don’t even know if he aspires to be.”

Michael’s arms tighten around his chest, his nose dig in by the crook of Dean’s neck to inhale deeply. “I definitely do. I’ll prove myself worthy to be. I’ll show you. Give me time and I’ll show you.”

It unleashes a storm of butterflies inside of Dean. The stranger purrs his approval, a content and calming sound to vaporize the last residues of fear. Michael grinds his hips into Dean, sucks at his neck gland and comes again.

Dean, bliss-blazed and sweaty, keeps staring at the stranger lazily stroking himself. He wonders what Sam would think if Dean tried to convince these two Alphas to join forces into a pack with the Winchesters. Dean’s always been drawn to the divergent. Sam not as much. Sure, he is far from narrow-minded, and like all Packrunners, he’s open to a few flaws in his partners and friends, but Dean thinks that Sam might not be so keen to welcome the dangerous-looking stranger with the foreign scent and black silver eyes. Michael’s lips brush the shell of his ear. “How mad will you be if I touch him?” he whispers as quietly as he can. Dean who’s staring at the stranger catches the next to imperceivable twitch in his lips and a slight, smug narrowing of his eyes that tells Dean that the guy must have heard anyway.

“Not at all. You?” Dean whispers back.

“No.”

The stranger rumbles a low chuckle and lets go of his dick, putting both his arms up over the backrests on either side of him, proving without a doubt that he heard their whispered conversation. “Pretty little boys want to touch the grown man's dick? Go ahead.”

“How old are you anyway? I've sure passed the little boy stage long ago,” Dean challenges. He’s looking at Michael’s hand as it slowly inches over the seat separating them from the stranger. He wonders if Michael’s heart is pounding with the same excitement as his own.

“Old enough that even men like you are little boys to me. But fair enough. You feel insulted? I call you pretty little Omega instead,” the stranger purrs.

“You can call me whatever, buddy. I ain’t complaining.”

Michael grips the stranger’s knot and the stranger tips his head back and hisses between his teeth. The smell of his arousal turning tenfold. The glands behind his ears start leaking like they already are on Michael and Dean. Dean reaches out to grip the bulbous part below his cockhead and starts pulling the foreskin back and forth. The girth of this thing is impressive, but the whole topside of the shaft is flat. Dean pulls the condom off the top. “Careful. When I come I make mess,” the Siberian warns. His accent stronger and his grammar wavering.

“Then scoot over here and give warning and I, or we, will catch it.”

“We,” Michael’s rough voice confirms as he kisses goosebumps on Dean’s neck. The Siberian Alpha moves another step closer and now their heads are just above his crotch. Dean honestly can’t tell who is the first to lick a stripe along the side of the Siberian Alpha’s dick. All he knows is that when his and Michael’s mouths meet over the triangular cockhead, kissing each other, playing with their tongues over the head, one hand each massaging shaft and knot, Dean’s having gods damned _revelations_. He’s fantasised about this so many times. (Minus the weird looking dick, but hey! He ain’t complaining!) About being a middle part of some Alpha-Alpha loving, all knotted up and cared for. The older Alpha is purring his appreciation, breathing getting heavier and heavier. His hands come to rest on their heads and Dean can smell that he’s rubbed them against his neck to get fluid to mark them up. He doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s good, because now he can bring both Michael and the strange Alpha’s scents back home to Sam and get his opinion on them. Dean purrs his own low-frequency ‘all is well’ to let both his playmates know he’s all for what they’re doing. 

The hands on the back of their heads grip tighter, push them closer and holds them still while the Alpha fucks up between their lips, purr turning into a heated growl. Dean meets Michael’s gaze. Sweat-slick skin, feverish eyes and heavy eyelids, a mirror to Dean himself. Dean thinks Michael might be the perfect mate for him if only he’s a Packrunner or can be persuaded to become one. Cas had been a Conservative when they met. The transition from monogamous Primal to Packrunner would be lesser. “Soon, I come,” the Siberian warns.

Dean dislodges himself from the grip to get up and suck the cockhead into his mouth while Michael goes the other way to suck at the knot. The flatness of the cockhead makes it perfect to press up onto the roof of his mouth and suckle like a baby bottle. When the Siberian comes, he roars, raising every hair on Dean’s body and triggering a chain reaction judging by how Michael convulses on top of him. Halfway through they switch off because the Siberian’s load is a fucking meal and Dean has limits for what he can take.

Afterwards, Michael and he trade lazy kisses and mark each other, resting their heads in the Siberian’s lap while he pets their heads and purrs a steady, wordless praise until knots have gone down and bodies have started to cool. “Good movie, yes?” the Siberian jokes when the three of them have detangled themselves and he’s tucking himself back in. “You want to watch again, or just talk, you call me.” He hands both of them a business card each before he leaves with a wink. They can hear him chuckle to himself as he walks up the stairs. Dean reads the business card before he pockets it. “`Aleksandr ‘Sasha’ Chaadayev - Security Consultant`” it reads. It’s a fitting job title, Dean thinks.

* * *

“So what’s got you clammed up?” Dean asks as they stroll through the streets, arms around each other’s midriffs this time. Michael’s been unusually quiet since they left the movie theater.

Michael hesitates. “You know I would have chased him away if you asked me to, right?”

Dean chuckles. “Honestly, I don’t think we could have if he put his mind to it to stay. But yeah. I never doubted that.”

“Good.” Michael’s quiet for another long moment. “I was dead serious. I’m intending to woo you for a mateship. I realise what happened back there might have ruined my―”

Dean interrupts him with an amused snort. “Why? Because you like a little Alpha on Alpha action? Yeah, no. That ruined nothing for me. I’m totally into that.”

Michael side-eyes him with a little quirk to his lips. “Good to know.” He stops them to once again mark Dean up, rubbing both temples and neck against Dean’s neck. Dean’s definitely falling in love, heart fluttering and belly fizzling. “Hey, do you think the guy really was a Siberian?” Michael asks when they start walking.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Mh. I wonder if what we did counts as bestiality then?” Michael muses.

Dean bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard he has to stop. “Man, _how the hell_ did you come to that conclusion?!”

“Because Siberians are an extinct species, presumably ancestors to the Euro-Asian _ancestors_ of the people living there today. _They_ developed from Snowtigers, not Wolfcats. I don’t know,” Michael flusters and makes a dismissive hand motion.

“Okay, pal, but that guy was far from extinct. He mighta been old but it’s not like he’s immortal or anything. And I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that it was a _man_ sitting there, not an animal. If he hadn’t been human like us the attraction wouldn’t have been there from our side,” Dean sniggers.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Michael sighs. “Besides, Primals were hunted over there and thrown in work camps until they died. It makes sense that there would be batches of survivors that got really good at hiding.”

“There you have it. And now you’ve got his number you can call and ask him any question you want. Hell, you can even hook up with him again.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“A big, strong and healthy Alpha like that? Nah. He’s no competition to me. And if he is…? Well, you’ve got three brothers who all smell as divine as you.” Dean waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Michael grins. “You’re saying the right things and you don’t even know it,” he marvels. “Hey, do you want to spend your Heat with me? I can smell that you’re close. We can check into the Penthouse suite at the Martian Crown. You’ll be waited on hand and foot and get the best food you can get in this city.”

“I’d love to. I really would, but I can’t. I have an important errand I need to run tomorrow that I’ve put off for months.” It’s not really a matter of putting it off. He’s finally saved up enough money to pay for a driver’s license and the DMV isn’t open on weekends. Dick had given him tomorrow off which would make tomorrow the first weekday off since Dean started his job. Dean’s not letting his Heat-cravings dictate this decision for him, no matter how tempting the offer. And he doesn’t like the idea of letting Michael give him another day off just so they can fuck.

“Oh. Some other time then?”

“Unless you fuck up big time, your chances of that are looking really good at the moment.” Dean winks, all giddy inside.

“In case bringing a second Alpha into play on our first date wasn’t fucking up, I don’t think I will,” Michael counters. Dean thinks he might be gods be damned perfect. Next step will be introducing him to Sammy and see if he agrees…

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Also, can we all take a moment to appreciate that Michael appreciates Dean conning and scamming Michael's company? Solely because it shows how crafty and self-sufficient he is?


End file.
